HIS ASSASIN

Fifteen

ALEXIA-

"Yeah well you try to look after your whole family by yourself! Try watching your thirteen-year-old sister beg for you to find her mum just so it would all stop, try finally getting your family out of this mess but still living in a hellhole because every single one of these men was tortured by my blood! You think they trust me? You think anyone trusts me?"

"Damian-"

"Do you?!" I stayed silent.

"How do you explain that, oh I'm sorry my dad made your  comrades rape your sister, follow my every command now."

"I'm sorry."

"Fuck you" And with that, he walked away once again.

Damn this hotel was nice, at least I was surrounded by nice things while I was in such a shitty mood.

I would have to push my stupid feelings to the side for now though. Today was the day and I was fucking excited. Some may call that kind of troubling but some people needed to die, and someone needed to deliver.

"You remember everything?" Bishop came out from the lounge room and once again asked me if I was prepared. "Yes, yes I'm as ready as can be." He was my new guard, and the replacement person for Damian relaying the plan to me. 

I liked him though, he was quirky in his own way and had a very questionable approach to humour despite his serious demeanour and monotone expressions. "Just making sure, you can never be too prepared."

"I guess you could say that." I was dressed in all black from top to bottom. Bishop had helped me choose the best thing to wear and I was very grateful because not only did it fit like a glove, it was agile enough for me to move in, which was necessary if I needed to get away for some reason.

"Are you sure you're gonna be able to make the shot?" This was the fourth time he's asked me this now.

"Yes, Bishop I can make the damn shot."

"But how, who taught you to shoot?"

"Mind your business please."

"Fine I'll get my sticky fingers out of your mind hole but not for long." I guess that was all I could ask for.

Unlike most of the people I'd met since getting married, he had no problem with interrogating me about my past. He didn't understand privacy, or simply didn't care enough to uphold it. He had been bombarding me with questions all night and day, I told him curiosity kills the cat but he said he'd stop at death number 8.

I would admit though it was a difficult shot to make, not one that even the most trained assassins could pull off. But I was born for this, quite literally.

"You ready?" He looked at me like he was still in disbelief that I was even doing this in the first place, he even went to the efforts of offering to do it himself but that wasn't needed.

"Yeah, I'm ready."

Fuck it was dark up here, and foggy too. There was nothing we could do about the weather so I would just have to put up with it.

I could see my target, he was smoking a cigarette and chatting with his fellow junkie. We were pretty sure he was at the bar to get money, from what Interpol had relayed to Bishop this was his routine. He would fuck off for months at a time and come back when he was running low. A bar plus his brother being here was a surefire way of knowing where he was. He wouldn't miss the opportunity to beg and then use that money to get absolutely obliterated now would he? Poor Declan.